No revolution For You
by Linda J
Summary: Sequel to It's A Happening Ending For Everyone. Belle and Adam's daughter is now a beast herself, and Forte is adjusting to life as a human once more. Meanwhile, the flames of revolution burn in the hearts of the common people, and soon those flames will engulf the nation. Will our friends survive? Or will they too become headless victims of the riotous mobs?
1. Chapter 1

No Revolution For You

by: Linda J.

Rated: PG-13 (strong language, adult situations, violence)

Summary: Sequel to It's A Happening Ending For Everyone. Belle and Adam's daughter is now a beast herself, and Forte is adjusting to life as a human once more. Meanwhile, the flames of revolution burn in the hearts of common people, and soon will engulf the nation. Are the benevolent inhabitants of Adam's Castle to be victims of the out of control mobs, as they lay waist to all remnants to the rule of absolute monarchy?

ch1

July 10, 1789. Dawn was breaking and the horses stood ready. Prince Adam gave his precious wife Belle one last kiss goodbye before mounting up. "I will write often," he assured her, as the Premier Ecuyer handed him the reigns.

He could tell she was concerned about this voyage into the Black Forest. For generations, stories had been told of the wondrous yet dangerous things one would encounter inside that dark and mysterious place. Even his mother had her own stories of gnomes and elves that would make life for human travelers either delightful, or treacherous, depending on their flighty moods. If he had known that he would someday need to journey into that very same place on horse back with his trusted paneterie and dear friend Lumiere, he would have never repeated his mother's tales to Belle. Adam had always been confident that his mother's macabre and some times gruesome tales were only meant to entertain and perhaps frighten him a little when he had been particularly obnoxious, and now more than ever he depended on that notion to be true. For if his mother's stories of ill tempered trolls or vengeful witches were true, even the four guards that would accompany him on this journey may not be enough to guarantee a safe return.

Lumiere, who was already one his steed, looked over to see Belle's knitted brow. "Don't you worry, my fair Princess, I will take good care of your husband."

Belle smiled kindly, trying to erase any appearance of doubt, "I know you will, Lumiere; and I will look after your dear Fifi."

The gates opened and the two men rode off toward the northern eastern regions of Adam's territory. If luck would have it, they would find what they needed there and the sooner the better. Maybe a wise spellbinder, or a friendly, helpful sprite with no ill intentions would have the information they needed to make Denise human again. If not, they would travel on, deeper into the dark forest until they found someone who had the right answers. Both men knew fully well this trip would very likely not end quickly, but both men would eagerly give up their own lives to see Denise made whole again. So quietly, solemnly they began their adventure, hoping that it would not be in vain.

oOoOoOoOoOoOo

Forte didn't recall much once he was led to his new living quarters, on the east side of the castle. He vaguely remembered Cogsworth mention, _something_, about, _something else_, and then went on about _something_ more, while Forte collapsed, still half drunk, onto his new bed, with just enough vim to take off his vest, undo his shirt buttons, and kick off his black leather shoes. He then groaned some profanities under his breath, while Cogsworth took far too long to say goodnight. That was all Forte remembered, and that was all he cared to remember. Then came morning, and just as all the other mornings Forte could remember from his human years, it came **far** too early.

"Go-o-od m-m-morning, Monsieur Forte!" Cogsworth bellowed loudly in english, mocking a cheerful tone. Forte, jumped and jerked from his sleep; he growled like a mad dog who had just been dowsed with ice water. "Get out!"

As if that hadn't been torture enough, the majordome, then briskly yanked wide open the curtains that faced directly east, letting the ever so bright and burning sunlight into the room, blinding Forte. He howled in fury again, as he clumsily flopped over facing the opposite direction.

"Ah, the _east_ wing," Cogsworth opened the window, and inhaled the morning air deeply, marveling at the garden which was two stories below the bedroom window. This room in particular had full view of the beautiful eastern gardens, as well as the snow capped mountains off in the distance, nothing at all to block out even one ray of sunshine, especially this time of the year.

"I _knew_ I had been saving this particular room for a _special someone_." Cogsworth taunted cruelly. He then turned and stared indifferently at Forte, knowing exactly how the man must feel, after so much wine the night before. As he then yanked open the next set of curtains, along the same wall, he began to antagonize Forte, continuing their conversation in english. "You know, I never believed those stories about vampires hating sunlight, but, now, I see I was wrong." He then moved on to the next and final set of windows.

Suddenly, Cogsworth heard a whizzing sound fly by his ear. From the corner of his eye he saw the blur of a black leather shoe, just as it hit, and cracked, the window pane that was closet to his head. He turned around to see Forte sitting up in his bed, with a vicious, mean scowl on his face; his other shoe in hand. He spoke slowly and angrily in english, "I threw that one with my eyes closed; you open one more _bloody_ curtain and I promise you Cogsworth, this shoe _won't_ miss its mark!"

Cogsworth only snorted with his nose in the air, "You'll have to pay for that you know." He did however stop opening any more curtains, which made Forte satisfied and feeling victorious. He let the the shoe drop down onto the floor, as he flopped back in his bed, crossing his arms over his eyes, wishing he had not drunk so much wine the night before.

"Oh, that reminds me," Cogsworth then folded his arms over his chest and cocked his head, "What _did_ you do with all that money, Monsieur Forte?"

Forte lowered his hand away from his face far enough to peek at Cogsworth with a glaring eye.

"Sense you apparently are not capable of realizing the obvious, Cogsworth, this is no time for riddles. So I will have to ask you, what money?"

"Why the money you took from the opera house in Rome." Cogsworth coyly smiled as he passively accused Forte of stealing. "I know all about your dirty criminal past."

Forte slowly removed his arms from his face, and sat up again. His shocked expression slowly turning into vehement rage.

Either Cogsworth do not see his anger, or did not care. He continued on with his accusations, making sure Forte knew exactly what he though of him and his actions. "Stealing from your employer was bad enough, but to run off with the manager's wife, as well!" he then coughed abhorrently. "That's just revolting!"

Hangover or not, Forte flew out of the bed and practically charged at Cogsworth, bending down slightly to face the short, stubby accuser nose to nose, eye to eye. "You swaggering pathetic excuse for an englishman! You've got the story all wrong!" Forte's nostrils flared with rage, scaring Cogsworth half out of his wits.

"**I** was the manager of that opera house! It was **my** wife who ran away with that bloody bastard who stole the money!" Forte's deep ebony eyes were bulging out of their sockets and the veins in his neck stuck out like tree roots. Cogsworth didn't say a word, he stood frozen, unsure what Forte would do next.

"The owner's of the opera house, held me responsible. I was put in jail, and forced to turn over every possession of mine, to compensate for their losses." His voice began to quiet down, but not his rage.

"I lost everything I had! My home and all that was inside! My career, my reputation; everything I ever valued was taken from me all because I let my brains fall into my penis!"

He finally stepped back releasing Cogsworth from his glare, and sat on the edge of his bed, turning his head and looking off in the distance and chortled. "All because I played with that wicked little dagger called love."

Forte then brought himself back to the present moment, "Now, Cogsy if you don't mind, I need to find my chamberpot, so that I may puke out my guts!"

Cogsworth stood speechless; had he been wrong about this mad man all along? The letter he wrote inquiring of Forte was written in english, but the reply came back in Italian. So, did something get lost in the translation perhaps? Suddenly he felt flushed as he tried to regain his composure. Apologize to Forte? No; not until something or someone could clear Forte's name. For all Cogsworth knew, Forte made it up, he was a crafty devil after all.

"Very well, Monsieur Forte. But be quick about it we don't have all day." Cogsworth spoke gruffly, seemingly unmoved by Forte's story.

"We haven't all day for _what_, pray…" Forte paused as his stomached churned, turning his greyish skin even paler. "…tell?"

Cogsworth began walking out the door, to give Forte some privacy. "I'll explain when you are finished."

He closed the door behind him, and as he walked away, he heard Forte's vomiting from across the hall.

oOoOoOoOoOo

Denise had slept between Prince Adam and Belle that night, and she slept remarkably well considering all she had been through the night before. Before she even opened her eyes, she knew her parents were no longer with her, their scents were now faint and distant. She sat up, and took a deep breath, then realized how many different scents she was picking up in the room. She sniffed again, her nose wrinkling as her nostrils flared, taking in the air around her. Instantly, she knew breakfast was almost ready to be served downstairs, she could smell the ham and oatmeal. She could even smell Mrs. Potts' famous breakfast tea that she made up every morning. Her hearing was better too, she clearly heard the birds outside the castle, as if she was already outside herself. Denise sprang out of bed and dashed to the window with a speed she never had before. She threw open the window and leaned out as far as she could, the warm sun beat down on her new brown fur like honey pouring onto one of Andre's breakfast rolls. Had she been on the first floor, she would have leapt out of the window without a care, and run through the green grass or jump in the fountain under her parent's bedroom window. She looked down at the yard which was three stories away from her, yearning to run, like she had never run before. She sighed quietly, half excited with your new form, but still afraid of what she had become. Even before the bedroom door opened, Denise knew it was her mother on the other side. She could hear her dainty footsteps as she made her way to the master bedroom.

"Good morning Momma," she offered a sweet smile to her mother, who returned the smile with equal affection.

"Good morning, sweet daughter," Belle replied closing the door behind her, so she and Denise could talk alone.

"Papa has already left?" Denise asked as she closed the window and turned, looking disappointed.

"Yes, he left at day break, just as he said he would. He wanted to give you one more goodbye kiss, for luck, but didn't want to disturb you. You were sleeping so peacefully." Belle explained as she stroked her daughter's head, hoping Denise didn't think she was 'petting' her like she used to pet Sultan when he was alive. Denise looked up into Belle's eyes with her own deep brown, sad looking eyes, making Belle's heart break.

"Oh Denise, had I known you would be so sad, I would have woken you up to see your Poppa off this morning."

Denise shook her head, "I'm not sad Momma, I know Poppa will return soon. I just would to go outside, that's all."

Belle was taken back by Denise's calmness to her new found situation. From the stories Adam had confined in Belle regarding his days being a beast, Denise was certainly taking her transformation far better than her father had.

"Are you sure you are comfortable with going outside Denise? I know we don't get many visitors, but if someone unfamiliar with our… um… the castle's history, they may react very unkindly to you." Belle didn't want to alarm the child, but she had to be warned of the possibilities.

"I'm not worried about any strangers Momma. I will stay close to the gardens, and I won't go near the main gate. I promise." The wolflike child smiled as sweetly as she could, exposing her fangs the same exact way her father would have when he was in this state. Belle was reminded of her time with Adam before the curse had been lifted, and it brought a found smile to her face. "I guess there's no harm in that. I want you to take your brother with you though, I'm sure he'd like to go out and play too, don't you think?"

Denise nodded, but took a deep breath, as if she were just s bit unsure. "You don't think he'll be scared of me like this?"

Belle softly shook her head with a warm smile, "Madame Armoire and I talked to him this morning already; he understands that you are… different now. We explained to him that inside you are still his sister and that nothing else has changed except for your appearance. In fact," Belle's smile grew wider. "He sounds very eager to see you."

"All right Momma," Denise returned a nervous but trusting smile.

"Now young lady," Belle rested her arm behind Denise's shoulder. "Let's see if any of your clothes still fit you."


	2. Chapter 2

ch2

When Cogsworth returned to the Maestro's door, he gave it a hard jiggle and found it locked. Immediately he produced the master key, and opened it without any announcements, qualms or hesitation. He discovered the drapes were once again closed, with Forte now dressed, lying on top of his bed, face up with his arms again folded over his face. As the majordome casually strolled into his room, Forte sighed throwing his arms to his sides and looking disgustedly up at the ceiling. "I don't recall asking for anyone to wake up me this morning," he spoke in english. "Certainly not from you; Now that I think of it, I don't recall you _ever_ coming to fetch me before. What gives Cogsy?"

"There'll be no lazing around in this castle," the castle's majordome asserted his authority over his inferior employee. "Belle might have suggested I allow you some time to sleep in but she didn't suggest how long, so I allowed you to sleep an extra thirty minutes. Now, up and at it Monsieur Forte. Come on; up, up, up!"

Forte looked back at the ceiling with a hopeless feeling and heaved a heavy sigh. "_What_ specifically am I getting 'up and at' for, hmmm? I have no purpose here in the castle any more," he sighed again. "I've been striped of my title, and my vocation. I am absolutely useless around here."

"Oh I wouldn't say that," Cogsworth almost tried to sound encouraging. "Before Prince Adam left on his journey this morning, he ordered to have that bloody instrument of yours be brought back into the castle."

Forte's eyes popped wide open as he gasped, and raised his head smiling with excitement, "He is bringing _mon coeur_ back here?"

Cogsworth rolled his eyes in mild disgust. "Oh, is that what you call that thing? _Your heart_?" he mocked Forte's pet name for the pipe organ. "Yes, yes you will soon have _your heart_ again. Luckily for the rest of us though, it won't be placed inside the thrown room where we have no choice but to listen to that depressing noise of yours."

Forte's smile dropped like a rock. Calling his music depressing wasn't all that insulting, but noise? Obviously Cogsworth could not appreciate true genius when he heard it. But what point is there in trying to explain true genius to a man of mediocre intelligence. Forte chose to over look the remark, but not forget it. "Oh, well then where will she rest?"

"Prince Adam wants it to be erected back in the chapel, where it belonged in the first place."

Forte's smile quickly returned. "That wasn't my doing, Cogsworth. You should remember that."

"I know, I know, as I recall, you were quite disturbed when Prince Leopold ordered the chapel be permanently closed. Didn't you chain yourself to the chapel's door or something, in protest?" Cogsworth turned his attention to the dust on the dresser.

Forte rolled over on his side, facing Cogsworth and propped himself on his elbow, feeling somewhat pleased with himself. "Yes, Prince Leopold was so impressed with my passion that he ordered the organ be placed in the thrown room. He said my actions proved how courageous I was."

Cogsworth didn't look at Forte as he continued to meddle about the room, "I thought your actions only showed how insane you were!"

Forte half way smirked with a quick chuckle and sat up, setting his feet on the floor. He rubbed the center of his forehead then his temples, trying to ease his headache. "Does this mean the castle has a chaplain once more?"

Cogsworth shook his head, "Since there are multiple religions represented within their staff, Adam and Belle feel they would make the chapel as a solemn place for reflection, prayer, and so on. You'll be the court's "_maître de chapelle." _You will be pretty much the only person there on a regular daily basis, so let's just hope no one ever has the need for any spiritual guidance."

"Oh, I don't know, I think I'm perfectly suited to be the devil's advocate; doesn't _that_ count for something?" Forte joked in his own dark way, as he rubbed the back of his aching neck.

He was beginning to feel like his good old pompous self again. "Now, Cogys, tell me, will I still have access to the court's orchestra?"

Cogsworth folded his arms over his chest and reeled back on his heels. "From this point forward, Monsieur Forte, you will call me, Cogsworth, or Majordome; That 'Cogsy' nonsense will end here and now. As for the orchestra, they are at Maestro Fife, the court composer's, disposal. He's a very good natured lad, so I suppose, if you were to ask him nicely, he might loan someone to you."

Forte grimaced upon hearing the title 'maestro' spoken before Fife's name. The idea Fife was now the court composer was unimaginable as far as he was concerned. Not now or _ever_ would Forte consider that ditzy, country bumpkin he had been so kind as to take under his wing, as an equal. Forte forced himself to ignore the pounding in his brain, or the nausea that continued in his stomach, as he slowly rose to his full height of six foot two inches. Cogsworth stood by making no effort to help, not that would Forte had accepted it if he had.

Along with the hangover, Forte was quickly being reminded of his age. For the past 10 years, he never had to concern himself with aching joints, or sore muscles or an aching back that came from sleeping the wrong way. Slowly, he walked over to the cracked window, wincing in pain as he bent down to retrieve his shoe.

Meanwhile, Cogsworth folded his hands behind his back and puffed out his chest. "I do have some good news for you, Monsieur. A farmer came to the castle early this morning with your coat in hand. He said he found it on a fence post near his pasture this morning."

Forte nodded a little, liking this news as he returned to the edge of his bed to put on his shoes. "Good, good; it is one of a kind, he mumbled quietly."

Cogsworth then smiled like a cheshire cat. "I also have some bad news. The farmer also found your wig, but not until after the cows had apparently chewed on it, then trampled it into the mud. He brought that back as well."

"So, where are they?" Forte gruffly asked as he stood.

"I had the wig burned this morning, and your coat is being cleaned." Cogsworth explained without a smidgin of sympathy for his wig.

"Ach!" Forte face became quite cross. "Burned it!? That damned thing cost me a fortune and you say you burned it!? What the devil am I supposed to do without a covering for my hair?"

Cogsworth sighed in frustration. "I know you haven't seen much of your fellow servants here in the castle so you wouldn't know this, but, no one wears those hideous things around here anymore."

Forte gave him a suspicious look and scoffed. "Really? Then what do they do with their hair?"

Cogsworth leaned in closely to Forte and sniffed the air, as he smugly replied. "They wash it. Which reminds me, how often do you bathe, Monsieur Forte?"

Offended by the question, Forte sneered back, "Once a year, on my birthday."

"And when is your birthday?" Cogsworth asked in a judgmental tone as he particularly eyed the musician's oily hair.

"November," Forte replied practically growled under his breath.

"Hmm, well that explains a few things, the smell for one." Cogsworth spoke under his breath but just loud enough for Forte to overhear.

"From here on you are to bathe and wash your hair regularly, no less than once a week," the majordome ordered in an unmistakably authoritative voice.

Forte's eyes flashed wide open. "One-once a week? Are you mad?"

Cogsworth grinned sadistically, "These are Belle's order's not mine, Monsieur Forte. Personal hygiene is her highest priority for everyone in the castle. We all bathe regularly so get used to it."

"What is she trying to do? Kill us all? No one can bathe so often and expect to live for very long!" Forte insisted frantically.

"I assure you Forte, you will survive a little soap and water on a weekly basis. Unless of course you'd rather look for employment elsewhere." Cogsworth smirked, half way hoping Forte would take him up on the idea.

Forte reared back, looking down on the shorter heavier man, "You'd love that wouldn't you?"

"With great pleasure I would!" Cogsworth eagerly agreed, not concerned for Forte's feeling in the slightest.

"Now, please come with me." Cogsworth turned to walk toward the door.

He followed quietly behind as Cogsworth led him to the basement level of the castle. As they passed other servants along the way, many of them stopped as they starred intently at the notorious madman and whispered to one another, making Forte feel self conscious and uncomfortable.

'Now I remember why I hate humanity so much,' he thought to himself as he looked straight ahead at Cogsworth's back, gnawing his bottom lip. "Say Cogys, where exactly are you leading me to?"

"Over there are the furnaces," Cogsworth pointed out, as they finally arrived to their destination. "Maurice had us break a hole in this wall over here, and had a completely new section added to the castle." Cogsworth explained, apparently not noticing Forte had disobeyed his orders regarding his name.

"This is what we call the 'cleansing house'." Cogsworth announced with a bit of pride as they headed to this new section of the castle.

"Cleansing house?" Forte repeated sorely. "What on earth is a 'cleansing house'?"

"I assume you've heard of bath houses right?" Cogsworth asked stingingly which Forte immediately sneered in disgust.

"Of course I've heard of bath houses!" Forte cringed distastefully. "Loathsome, horrid places. I wouldn't be caught _dead_ in one of those lecherous dens of sinful perversion."

"Lecherous dens of sinful perversion," Cogsworth rolled his eyes and repeated under his breath as they made their way inside. "Perhaps on the side of London from where you came, but not in Bloomsbury. Any how, rest assured Monsieur Forte, there is no, 'sinful perversion,' going on in here. Here is where we come to wash ourselves from head to toe as warm water sprinkles down from above." Cogsworth then pointed above their heads where Forte could see two large metal basins over by the furnace wall standing side by side. One basin was mounted next to one of the furnaces, allowing the water inside to be warmed. Both basins had two metal pipes leading out of them, that gradually moved downward and round the left and right sides of the room. The pipes ran along side of each other, far above the men's heads.

"This is part of the indoor watering system Maurice developed for us." Cogsworth began the tour.

"Water is collected from the lake outside the castle, by means of a water wheel, strained for any debris, then sent to these watersheds. One heats the water before its sent along to the washroom stalls were we can enjoy a refreshing splash to clean yourself off."

Forte rolled his eyes, shuddering slightly, "Sounds dreadful."

Cogsworth gave up on trying to warm Forte up to liking the new changes Belle had made to their dress code. He turned away and then grabbed a burlap sack that had been sitting beside the door. "I assume you have no fresh clothes much less any soap, a razor to shave, or wash towels and rags, so I took it upon myself to ask around and take up a collection of sorts for you." He nearly threw it at Forte, "Here."

Forte felt humbled and out of place. He wasn't used to acts of generosity especially from someone who typically treated him with such distain. He quietly opened the bag to find several items he was in fact in need of.

"Um, thank you Cogsworth," he offered a gentle response with a blank expression on his face.

Cogsworth tried not to look surprised at Forte's show of humility. "Follow me."


	3. Chapter 3

ch3

"I guess this will just have to do until Madame Pwen, can whip something up for her." Belle sighed while trying not to seem too disappointed as she and Madame Armoire stared at Denise's reflection in the full length mirror. Denise stood there in front of the mirror, wearing the gown she wasn't supposed to wear until her debutante ball, when she turned sixteen. An exquisite gown, which had been a gift from Queen Marie Antoinette herself. A soft, pastel green gown, made from yards and yards of satin, gathered and ruffled from the waist down, with thin pink ribbons twirled into the shape into tiny pink roses was sown at the gathered points of the dress and along her collar and scarf like sleeves. It was meant to be worn over a bustle, which helped provide room to cover Denise's new long bushy tail. But even though Denise had been eagerly waiting for the day when she could wear this lovely dress, she felt uncomfortable in it now. It was still a bit too long, and a bit too lose around the chest, and much heavier than anything else she had ever worn. But, it was the only thing that she could put on without ripping at the seams. She continued to stare at the image looking back at her in the mirror and to her surprise, it didn't disturb her. In spite the black claws and sharp fangs, the pointed horns and underneath this thick coat of hair that covered her face and body, Denise was still, well, Denise. Even in this beautiful but extravagant gown.

"I think you may want to here in your room until the seamstress can make some new clothes for you. What do you say?" Belle asked, also thinking the gown was woefully much for a girl her age to wear as everyday attire.

Denise turned, looking thoroughly disappointed. "No, Mamma, I don't want to hide in my room. I have to get out, I NEED to get out!"

Belle gave her a little sad smile, but nodded her approval. "Fine. But be careful in that dress. Its not easy to get around in something so cumbersome."

"Mama, will I still have to wear shoes?" she asked. Belle took a breath, and offered her daughter an uncomfortable smile.

"I have a feeling we're not going to find a pair that fits you any more," she honestly admitted. "Do you think you can manage going barefoot for a while?"

Denise nodded with a half smile. "I was hoping that would be your answer. I would hate to try to stuff my paws into a shoe."

Belle shuddered, hearing Denise so casually refer to her feet as "paws".

"Well, for now anyway, you can go without wearing any shoes. Hopefully, by the time the cold weather sets in, you will be back to normal. Otherwise, we'll have some nice boots made up for your," Belle paused. It was a comfort to know Denise was thus far handling the transfiguration well, but Belle was not quite ready to accept her daughter's fate. She swallowed hard and held up her chin before finishing her sentence. "Paws."

Denise turned, sensing her mother's tensions, and reached out to hug her. "I'm OK mamma, I can do this."

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

It took Cogsworth only a minute or so to give Forte the run down on how to work the castle's unique laving system as Maurice called his invention. It was a very simple process; just walk into an empty stall and close the wooden door behind you. This was the private dressing room area, where a person would unclothed themselves before walking into their private shower stall and close the curtain behind them; then turn on the faucets and stand under a metal cone shaped "thing" as Cogsworth called it, where temped water would sprinkle down at an easy flow. As Cogsworth excused himself and left him alone to clean himself in peace, Forte followed his instructions, and quietly went into the private dressing room carrying his bag of toiletries and borrowed clothes with him. Forte undressed himself and as he set his old clothes down on a chair, he caught a glimpse of himself in mirror that hung on the wall. The split second he saw the reflection of his face he grimaced, 'You again!'

He looked away only to have his attention fall on his pasty, frail, scrawny body and flaccid manhood that he had not seen in quite a long time. The sight reminded him of his age, making him feel frail, weak and flaccid. Even though he never saw what he looked like in his pipe organ form, undoubtedly he knew he looked strong and resilient because he felt strong and invincible. After all, even that tumble he took on that fateful night did not end his existence. As badly as some of his parts had been bent and even pulled apart after that fall, with a little help, he came back, good as new. If he had taken a fall like that one, in is human form, Forte was certain it would have ended badly. He reached down and touched his manhood, looking for any kind of reaction, but the limp limb simply refused to awaken from its dead like slumber. He rolled his eyes in disgust. 'What's the point in being made of flesh and blood, if that flesh and blood losses its liveliness?'

He found himself once again lamenting the loss of his metal form, but he tried to shake it off, 'No, no point living with regret. It's time to move on,' he encouraged himself. Then suddenly he softly chuckled to himself, remembering those were the exact words he told himself when he discovered as a pipe organ, he was bolted to the wall. In fact, as Forte began to realize, every time he was forced to pick himself up by the knickers and move on, it was those words that gave him the determination he needed to do just that. 'Mmm, looks I may have at least found a motto for myself, after all these years.'

He raised his bare left arm to wipe a strand of hair away from his face, and that's when he saw, it, again. He had nearly forgotten all about the nasty memento left behind from the time when no words of encouragement could ease his pain and anguish. He stared blankly at the twisted cluster of scars for a moment; for twenty years he'd been free of this hideous reminder. For the past twenty years he had nothing to force him to recall that weakest of all frailties, his heart. Those twenty years Forte enjoyed the peace of mind of living with no heart at all.

A heart could be tricked and deceived by beauty and sweet words. No heart meant no shame, no gullibility, no loneliness. No heart meant nothing to be broken, ever again. Being made of metal, made even the memory of his cherished one _completely_ meaningless to him; even the gaping hole she tore into his heart was but a meaningless memory, replaced with only the melodious vibrations he could create within himself, for himself. The memory of her lovely face, her seraphic voice could no longer force him to suffer from the humiliation he endured from believing her lies, believing her love for him was true. He could live without her in peace, even knowing that she had used him like a puppet, then left him to pay for the crimes she and her two-faced lover had committed. Being made of metal made it easy to forget every wrong they had done to him. But now?

On his wrist was the evidence that he had in fact once been made a fool, and worse, tried a foolish thing to end the madness and suffering inflicted upon him. He continued to stare at those scars that would remain on his arm, silently mocking him of the days when he felt the jubilation of love's touch, and the days when love's touch abandoned him forever. Forte's eyes swelled with tears as suddenly the scent of her perfume stalked his memory, and he caught himself mournfully whispering her name under his breath, "Claudine."

He clinched his eyes tightly and swallowed hard; the taste of her memory was once again like a bitter poison to his soul. He dropped his arm and grabbed the soap, walking into the shower stall. He studied the knobs, and followed Cogsworth's instructions. Forte stood there under the running water enjoying a long soak, allowing the soap to do its job. The sound the water made as it spewed from the spout overhead, as well as when it hit the floor underneath, was a new sound to mentally take in, which he would eventually translate into music. No longer being made of metal, he would have to achieve greatness yet again with nothing but his amazing genius locked inside this frail and superficial frame. He wouldn't just make music, he'd make music so fine that the angels in heaven would weep with envy. He turned off the faucet and dried himself with a sad smile, 'Yes; there is no point living with regret. It's time to move on.'

oOoOoOoOoOoOo

At first Denise tried to walk down the stairs like a young lady, graceful and serene, but whether it was nerves, her young age, or new animal instincts, she suddenly bolted down the stairs and headed straight for the kitchen, just as she had done the night before. She leapt over the table like a cat or dog like animal, but then took her seat like any normal human child, "Good morning, Mrs. Potts."

"Heavens child," Mrs. Potts scolded her. "You mustn't barge in that way. You startled me!"

"Oh," she tried to sound polite, while mentally she thought to herself, 'but honestly, why do I have to be the one to control _my_ actions? Can't Mrs. Potts just learn to get used to her coming in this way?'

She chose to be diplomatic instead, and said, "I'll try to be more careful next time."

Belle now came into the kitchen, looking quite cross. "Young lady, I except you to learn to control your impulses. You are NOT a wild animal."

"Yes, Mamma," Denise grumbled crassly, as she tried to adjust sitting in a chair with this new tail of hers. Adam then walked in and instantly his eyes went straight to Denise making them pop wide open as his jaw nearly hit the floor as well. All he had seen of Denise the night before was a brief glimpse, before he was whisked away to his own room. He over heard the excitement and shock in everyone's voice around him, and he understood it had something to do with his sister, but never did he imagine this is what had happened to her. "Holy hell, Denise!" he exclaimed, throwing out all self restraint. "What the blazes happened to you?"

Belle turned red with embarrassment, "Where did you learn to use language like that?"

Adam went blank, 'Where did he learn to use language like that?' He wanted to be honest, and tell her that he learned it from everyone in the castle, except for maybe her and Mrs. Potts; Grand poppa especially. He tried to dig up the courage, to tell his mother Belle, just that but instead, he stuttered, "Ah-h-h…"

Belle waved her hand and huffed. "I know where you heard it; from your grand poppa."

"Don't be mad, dear. All the men in the castle let their tongues slip now and then. " Mrs. Potts added to ease the situation.

"Including poppa," Denise mischievously added, in a matter of fact tone.

Belle half smirked at her daughter; she could either get up set and throw a crying fit or silently laugh at it all. She sat down quietly next to her daughter and let out a soft sigh. "I don't want to hear language like that coming from you, young man. Even at your age, you have a vocabulary extensive enough to express your thoughts without resorting to swearing."

Both Adam and Denise were glad he was not in any trouble, and he quickly took his seat across from Denise. "How did you get that way?"

Denise shrugged her shoulders. "I haven't a clue, Adam. I went to sleep and woke up this way."

"Did it hurt?" Adam wondered.

Denise shook her head, "No, I didn't feel a thing."

He then studied her hands which were now paw like. "Is it hard to use those?"

She lifted her paws and gave them a close look herself. "A little bit. I haven't really tried to do a lot of things with them yet."

Belle then put her hand gentlly on Denise's shoulder. "When your father was the beast, he had a difficult time eating with utensils, so be prepared to eat a lot of soup straight from the bowl."

Just then, Cogsworth came into the kitchen along with Forte, whose hair was still damp from his morning's shower.

"Good morning Princess Belle, Prince Adam and Princess Denise," Cogsworth stiffly followed protocol by addressing the royal family first, "and good morning, Mrs. Potts."

Mrs. Potts saw Forte lurking behind the majordomo, and offered him some fresh black coffee. "Here you go, Maestro. I knew you'd be ready for some more of this."

He gratefully took the cup and raised it to her in a toast. "My pounding head thanks you, Mrs. Potts."

"Good morning gentlemen," Belle softly welcomed them to join her family, but both men chose to stand. Forte then looked intently at Denise. He was still quite cross at her for what she had done, but was gradually getting over his rage. He studied her apparel with a judgmental gaze. "I didn't know breakfast was a formal occasion around here these days."

Belle knew sarcasm when she heard it, and gave him a sharp glare. "This is all Denise has to wear for now."

Forte returned the glare with one of his own. "Well, look at her; she's positively miserable in that thing. Trust me, I know miserable when I see it. Am I right child?"

Denise, shyly nodded. "I am, but I would be even more miserable if I had to stay inside."

Forte's mouth curled over to one side of his face as he pondered the situation. "Can't she wear someone else's clothes? You managed to drum up some new threads for me, a lowly servant. Surely there is some woman here in the castle who can spare a dress or two for the Princess?"

"We tried to see if any of my older clothes would fit, but she's too muscular in this form." Belle explained.

Forte then looked at Mrs. Potts. "Well, you're short enough and um," he hesitated as he tried to find a phrase that wouldn't offend the sweet lady, "um, healthy. I bet the princess would fit nicely in something of yours."

Mrs. Potts took no offense to his wording, she knew her size and was very comfortable with herself. "I bet you're right Maestro. Right after breakfast, I'll have a look see."

A moment later, the family was served breakfast. Hard boiled eggs, and buttered croissants. Denise quickly found out that it was hard to manipulate small things with such long claws and awkward shaped hands, but she also figured a way to use the tip of her index claw to peel the egg with little effort. Even Belle quietly marveled at how clever Denise was in figuring out how to manage her new body on her own. Even Adam seemed impressed with his sister's ingenuity and smiled at her rather pleased. He bent down to look under the table to see if he could see any more of Denise's new form, but only saw her gown.

"Are you feet like you hands?" he wondered as he looked up at her again.

"Yah, and they're even stronger," she almost sounded as if she was bragging.

"I can't wait to go outside and run! You want to come with me?" Denise asked Adam eagerly.

Adam then looked across the table to his mother with an pleading look. "Can I be a beast too, Mamma?"

Both Cogsworth and Potts broke into a laugh, as did Denise, as Belle shook her head and gave another one of her famous smirks, while Forte just stood there wishing they soon stop before his head would explode from the outburst of noise.

"One beast is enough for any castle," Mrs. Potts jokingly assured the young master.

"Yes, one is _more_ than enough!" Cogsworth agreed, before all seemed to quiet down.

Forte stood quietly finishing his coffee, but was beginning to feel anxious. He had not gone this long without creating some kind of tune to ease his stressed mind in, well, forever it seemed. "Well, your highnesses, Mrs. Potts, Cogsy, you have all been charming company, but I must be on my way. I am eager to be with _Mon Coeur_ again."

"Oh, Maestro," Mrs. Potts argued sympathically. "You don't have to go back into the dark cave; stay here with us."

Forte smiled smugly, feeling wanted. "You misunderstand, my dear Mrs. Potts. Cogsworth has explained to me that, Mon Coeur has be set up in the chapel."

"Ah-ah!" Cogsworth quickly corrected with a devilish grin. "I said, _will_ be set up in the chapel. **Will**, be."

Forte's smiled vanished without a trace. His left eye began to twitch as he tried to remain civil, when what he really wanted to do was raise bloody hell. "All right, Cogsy," his voice was laced with spite. "Pray tell, when can I expect to see you fulfill the Prince's orders?"

Cogsworth's evil grin only broadened. "You see, Monsieur, Prince Adam told me to have it done, however, he left it up to my desecration as to _when_ it would be done. Now, how many times have you called me, 'Cogsy' after I clearly forbade you to do so? Hmmm…"

He began to count in a whisper touching his finger tips as he counted. "one… two… three… yes, three times, if memory serves me. Does that sound right to you Monsieur Forte?"

Forte swallowed hard, he knew when he was about to be screwed. "I don't recall."

"Well, I do," Cogsworth spoke coolly. "It was three times. So, three times you deliberately disobeyed my orders, mmmm… lets make it three **weeks** before you will have your _Mon Coeur_ back here in the castle."

"Three weeks!" the mad musician gasped in disbelief. "What in the blazes am I supposed to do until then?"

Cogsworth winked with a smug grin on his face. "We'll find odd jobs here and there to occupy your time. Oh, I know. For a start, after they finish their breakfast, you can take the children outside for a spell."

Forte folded his arms over his chest in defiance. "Have you forgotten? Vampires don't like sunlight!"

Once more, Cogsworth folded his arms behind his back and rocked back on his heels. "Then stand in the shade."


	4. Chapter 4

ch4

Prince Adam hadn't looked over his shoulder even once as they made their way through his domain and beyond. He had to look ahead now, look for the one who could reverse his daughter's curse. His emotions were running high, and he had to remind himself not to let his anger get out of control. If Denise was to ever become human again, he must remian civil and composed. It was nearly noon and they had made good time, they were already a good five, maybe six miles into the forest. They rode quietly along a beaten path, two guards in front, Prince Adam and Lumiere in the middle and two guards brought up the rear. The incredibly tall pine trees and thick foliage darkened the path with a lovely yet eerie dark green hue, making it difficult to see clearly for more than ten feet away or so, and in spite the fact that the sun was blazing overhead, the shade the trees offered was refreshingly cool but dank with the unmistakable scent of mold and mildew in the air.

Rumor was that somewhere just up ahead along this path and just off to the right, stood a stone cottage where a daft, old widow, soothsayer lived. More known for her match making skills than foreseeing future events, but involved in the magical arts all the same. It was a long shot to say the least, hoping this crazy match maker could point them toward the same enchantress, who had cursed Adam and his castle in the past, but it was a shot the Prince had to take. The sound of gently running water was getting louder by the moment, and even the horses perked up at the scent of fresh running water. Lumiere quietly leaned over speaking to Adam, "Your highness, I suggest we allow the horses to get some water and a short rest once we find that brook."

The Prince nodded as he leaned in toward Lumiere. "Once we're there, I'll scout around on foot. That old widow's cottage shouldn't be too far away."

oOoOoOoOoOoOo

Still wearing her ballroom gown, Denise and Adam quietly walked outside with Forte following behind, looking as if he was being led to the gallows. As they continued on, the distance between him and the children grew, until he finally spoke up, "Why are you two in such a rush? Do you think the ground outside is going to go away any time soon?"

Adam turned and gave the man a confused look, not understanding his sarcasm. He then noticed the dispirited expression Forte wore and felt sorry for the old man. "Why so glum chum?"

The boy then ran back to grab Forte's left hand, "C'mon, I'll race ya."

Forte tried to take his hand back with no success. "I'd rather you _didn't_ if its all the same."

He finally pried his hand loose from Adam's eager grip and shooed the child off, "Go, go run with your sister. She looks rather antsy to go outside."

"OK," Adam chirped as they hit the door, rushing outside like a racehorse out of the gate. Denise too darted like the wind, and immediately jumped ahead of Adam. Usually she did win their races, but now it was just no competition as she bolted like the wild animal she looked to be. That is, until suddenly her feet got caught in the flowing fabric of her gown and she fell flat on her face, hitting the ground with a hard thud. Adam was closest when she hit the ground, and came to her aid. Forte's face was struck with concern as he picked up his pace to reach her.

"Denise!" he yelled out. "Are you all right?"

Denise rolled over and sat up, rubbing her bruised, hairy nose.

"Yah I _guess_ so," she reluctantly replied feeling frustrated and somewhat humiliated. She then sighed, seeing she had torn her gown. Forte bent over and reached out his hand to help her up, while Adam began to brush off her pretty dress.

Suddenly, Denise and Forte's eyes met and both found themselves reliving the final moments they had together in the cave. Denise's eyes widened as she vividly recalled the sound of Forte's yelling then sobbing, at the same instant, Forte, too recalled his yelling and weeping. She gasped, fearing what this man may still think of her, and she froze still, sitting on the ground with her hand in his. He could see the look in her eyes and sensed her vulnerability. 'Why do people always assume the worst of me?'

"Get off your rear, Denise," he sharply snapped, as he nudged her upward. "If you wanted to sit, we could have stayed inside for that."

Denise minded her elder, servant or not, as he helped her on her feet. They then began to walk toward a large oak tree that grew beside the ground's main pond.

"Forte," she called him, as they walked side by side while young Adam ran up ahead. "Are you still angry about being turned into a human again?"

Forte was silent for a second or two; noting to himself how Denise obviously saw no need to give him an apology. Should he ask her for one?

"I'm adjusting," he finally settled with telling her in a solemn tone. They continued to walk side by side, neither sure if they should say anything else to one another. When they reached the tree, Forte took Cogsworth's advise, and stood in the shade, while Denise and Adam began throwing pebbles into the pond and watched the ripples they made. Then out of nowhere, he heard Fife's voice call out his name again.

"BonJour Monsieur Forte, how are you feeling today?" Fife kindly asked his old mentor.

Forte turned to give the young man a surly look, "Why I am happy as a lark! I was awoken far too early this morning by that bellowing Cogsworth, who then ordered me to drench myself from head to toe, the clothes I'm now wearing are too big and baggy to my liking, my coffee wasn't nearly strong enough, I'm hung over _and_ I'm _**human**_ again! How the hell do you think I feel?"

Fife tried to smile and laugh at Forte's cantankerous sarcasm, "Ha-ha, Always quick with a joke aren't you Maestr… -em," Fife caught himself before he accidentally gave Forte any undo notoriety.

"Well, always quick with the jokes," he repeated himself in a much calmer tone. Forte turned away folding his arms.

"So, is there a reason for you coming out here?" he asked, feeling slightly frustrated that Fife could no longer be counted as a starstruck underling.

"As a matter of fact, Monsieur, I do. I… I have a favor to ask of you." Fife calmly admitted in a soft and gentle tone.

Forte's ears perked up; 'favor?' If Fife didn't have the memory of a gnat, he would remember all the other 'favors' Forte had done for him in the past.

"And what would that be?" Forte asked half interested.

Fife took a deep breath and bit his bottom lip a bit, feeling as if he were trying to strike a deal with the devil himself. "Um, as you know, my wife Rosalie is heavy with child. She is due any day now, and I was hoping that when that time comes, um, if you would be so kind as to, um, step in and temporarily lead the orchestra. You know, in case the need for a maestro should come up while I'm absent. _Temporary,_ of course."

"Oh, of course," Forte mocked, but eagerly agreed to do the favor. "Yes, I will be glad to fill in for you."

"No doubt the orchestra is dying for a _real_ musician to lead them for a change," he added under his breath.

Fife smiled, not hearing Forte's snide remark. "Thank you Maes -em, Monsieur Forte. Rosalie will be happy to know I can be there for her when the time comes."

Forte was looking elsewhere as nodded his head, not fully hearing Fife's comment, but then thought about what he had just heard.

"'There for her'?" he repeated. "What the devil do you mean, 'there for her'?"

Fife's face turned a light shade of pink, as he went to explain his and Rosalie's plans. "Well, we've decided that when the baby is ready to come out, I'll be right by my wife's side. It will be my job to offer her encouragement and support during that special time."

Forte turned again to look Fife dead in the face. His own face was expressionless as he tried to get his head around what Fife had just said.

"Dear boy," he called his old apprentice. "Hasn't anyone told you, you've done your 'job' already!"

With his hands on his hips he then began to explain his idea of what the man is supposed to do, when his wife bares him a child. "When that special time does come, the woman goes into the bedroom, and the midwife closes the door. You then, go off into the study, smoke a cigar and sip brandy while all your gentlemen friends join in to congratulate you for having a dick that works. _That_ is what you are supposed to be doing!"

Fife's face was now a bright shade of embarrassment pink as he tried to explain. "Monsieur, my wife lost our first baby in her fourth month. I _want_ to be with her this time. I want to show her how much I love her and care for her."

Forte's brow knitted as he slightly shook his head in confusion. "And what precisely will you do while you're in there? Tell Rosalie when its time to push?" He then began stuttering his words as he sniggered at his own cruel joke. "Or, or, or remind her to _breath_?"

He then began to heartily laugh as he maliciously teased Fife's devotion for his wife. He went so far as to mock Fife's voice, "Don't forget to breath dear, ha-ha-ha! H-h-how droll!"

Again, Fife's face turned colored. It was now a bright shade of furious red. "You haven't changed one bit! You, you, you are _still_ just a mean, old, windbag! Just forget I asked you for anything!"

He left in a huff, as Forte's arms fell to his sides, stunned by Fife's outburst.

'Well, that could have gone better,' the old man thought to himself as he folded his arms again and began to wonder if maybe he should go and apologize to Fife. Just then, Belle walked up and joined him under the tree.

"Ah Princess Belle; Here to make sure I haven't eaten the children yet?" Forte rendered some of his dark humor. Belle just smirked, she knew he was joking, but the truth was she had come to check on him and her children.

"I didn't know vampires ate children," she joked back.

"Oh yes, that's right; We merely suck the life right out of them." His folded arms, and calm demeanor made his statement all the more creepy. When the children heard their mother's voice they came running to greet her. The first thing Belle noticed was the tear in Denise's dress.

"How did that happen?" She asked trying not to sound to cross. While Denise explained what happened, young Adam found a long, thin stick and began to smack at a plain grey spider that had made itself a home inside a hollowed out hole in the oak tree's trunk. Luckily for the spider, Adam was just about an inch too short to reach the hole, but that didn't stop Adam from trying to smack the spider. Every time the stick hit the tree, the spider would nervously jump or cringe inside its humble hole of a home.

"Stop that!" Forte rebuked the child right in front of his mother. "He is out of everyone's way up there, just leave him alone. He's not hurting you, is he?"

Adam obediently stopped, noting to himself how Forte had referred to the spider as a male several times. He walked up close to Forte to get a good look at the spider from that angle. "How can you tell it's a male spider, Monsieur Forte?"

Even Denise and Belle were interested in his answer. "Well, of course its male. Why won't it be?"

Denise cocked her head, "Actually Monsieur Forte," she explained in a matter of fact way. "My grand poppa says the majority of the spiders here around the castle are female."

Forte looked down his nose at the girl and sneered, "And how exactly did your grand poppa make this discovery? Did he round up every spider on the grounds, then take a quick peek between their legs?"

Adam caught what the man said, and began to laugh. "Peek between their legs! Ha-ha!"

Belle couldn't help but find Forte's brash remark slightly amusing. "My father happens to study a number of things Forte, arachnology is just one of them."

"Well, that might be so your highness, but unless all those females spiders found a way to impregnate themselves, I venture to say, there is at least one very exhausted male spider living nearby the castle; and considering how this little fellow here, was content enough to live in the tree without stirring up any trouble, I'm willing to bet, he's the _one_!" Forte flatly insisted.

"And why do you believe _that_ particular spider is a male?" Belle argued.

"Because, your highness," he explained in a matter of fact way. "That particular spider sat in his tree the entire time, and not once did it come down and cause me any grief, therefore it cannot be a female; thus making it, a male!"

Belle picked up on the subtle anger and hurt in Forte's sarcasm, but wasn't sure how to respond. "I don't understand your reasoning, Forte."

"Allow me to explain something, my dear Belle. When it comes to females, it has been my personal experience that they are nothing but trouble makers, especially for me! Every woe, every heartache, every tragedy; every time I suffered from a misfortune," he then bent his long thin frame toward Belle's smaller shorter body, and with one hand on his hip and the other pointing at her face, he continued with his rant. "I can look back and point my finger right at some woman's face. Including yours, if I may be so bold to say your highness, not to mention your darling daughter's too."

He then straightened up feeling smug and thoroughly relieved to get that off his chest. "Cherchez la femme, my dear Belle. Cherchez la femme!"

Belle was left speechless while Denise just felt eager to leave. "Momma, Adam and I would like to go play a game of hide and seek now."

Belle gladly took her attention off of Forte's stinging accusations for the moment any way. "Yes, go ahead dear. Monsieur Forte and I apparently need to have a quiet discussion."

As soon as the children ran off to play their game, Belle put her hands on her hips and turned her attention back to Forte. "All right Monsieur Forte, let's clear the air. For a start, you can tell me what did I do to you."

Forte folded his arms while again leaning toward her, "You, showed, up."

"Pardon me?" Belle gasped offendedly.

"We were happy before you came here to the castle," Forte began to explain. "Everyone knew their place, and everyone had grown accustomed to the way things were _especially_ the master and I. But, when you showed up," his paused as he felt his anger rise. "People, began to _hope_, and dream of returning to their former lives."

His face filled with disgust. "I loved him Belle, he was my _cher ami_!"

Forte's eyes filled with deep despair, as his voice lowered to nearly a whisper. "You; you took him away from me."

Belle paused for a moment before speaking. Fort'e affection for her husband was abundantly clear, so much so that it bordered obsession. It was apparent that, had Forte had his way, he would have gladly sacrificed everyone else's life as a human being, just to satisfy his need to be near Prince Adam. She wondered what kind of love would make a person do this?

Belle thought out her words carefully, "Forte, are, you, in **love** with my husband?"

Forte knew precisely what she was digging at. He sighed softly and briefly looked up into the sky before answering. "Your highness, my love for your husband burns with the intensity of ten thousand suns. But I swear upon every ray of every one of those suns, not once has my love, caused me to have an arousal, or, or made me yearn to spill my seed. No, I am not homosexual, though I dare say, perhaps if I were, I would be a happier man."

Belle felt a tinge of relief, though she still thought what Forte had said about life in the castle before she came, was the creepiest thing she ever heard. "Do you still harbor bitterness towards me for that? After all these years? After everything that Adam has done for you?"

Forte shook his head, "No, I don't suppose I do. But, being left alone while the master consoled you in the dungeon," he paused so not to let her hear his voice crack. "Is one of the most painful memories I have."

"Well, one of my most painful memories is being thrown into that dungeon after you tricked me into going to the black forest and I fell into freezing water." She calmly informed him, letting him see he was far from the victim in this situation.

He gave her words some thought then nodded understandingly, "Yes, I can see how that would hurt. But, if you had just left the notion of Christmas alone, none of that nonsense would have happened."

"Well, if you would just lighten up a little you could enjoy the holiday too." Belle tried to keep her voice calm, hoping she could get this old, stuffy, fuddy-duddy to see her side.

Forte flouted her point of view entirely, "Why does everything always have to be so, so, cheery and bright, and, and ha-happy with you? It's… so depressing."

"Why does everything always have to be gloomy and grey with you?" She sharply retorted.

"What you call gloomy, I call enthralling. Before you came along, the master appreciated my sombre melodies. He would listen to me play for hours and hours. But then, here you came, and suddenly the master wanted me to play **happy** music." Forte's eyes were that of a wild, mad man. "He didn't want my music anymore, oh no! In fact, he actually wanted to use me to win you! He expected me to just stand idly by and watch him slip from my grasp. I, I had no choice but to stop the madness. Looking back, I truly wish I had handled things differently, but no matter what, things always seem to go badly for me."

"I'm sorry you felt that way Monsieur Forte, but," Belle reached out and touched Forte gently on his bent elbow. "Who's really to blame for all you sorrows?"

Forte's eye brows raised as he thoughtfully considered her words. Suddenly his eyes brightened as enlightenment struck him. "You may have a point my dear. You know, your _father_ may be the one to blame, since he arrived here first."

Belle took her hand away from Forte's elbow and placed in on her forehead, feeling a headache coming on. Suddenly young Adam came running up to them both. "Momma, Forte, I can't find Denise. Can you help me look?"

They each spread out looking in different places; behind nearby bushes and trees, behind walls and around building corners. Young Adam then had the idea to walk down the bank and look just under the bridge that crossed the pond. Suddenly, Adam began to yell for his Momma to come. As she and Forte approached the lad, he bent over and picked up Denise's clothing. Every stitch she had been wearing was now in a neat pile underneath the bridge.

"Where could she have gone?" Belle gasped in fright. Belle quickly decided to call for Cogsworth so that a search party could be arranged, but Forte had another idea.

Without telling a soul, he alone made his way back to the cave where he had once resided. He walked inside, but it all felt so different now. He took a lantern and walked the path to find his beloved mistress. Oh how he missed making love to her, being inside of her, feeling her, becoming a part of her. He walked down the stairs, raised the lantern and saw her standing alone. He gazed at her beauty as he quietly walked up to her and laid his hand lovingly over her keys. He looked up at her as if she had a face, and patted her keys as if patting her hand. "We have a purpose after all my dear; they've let us come home."

Then he stopped and stiffened as something behind him caught his attention. Slowly a smile of sheer satisfaction creased his face. "I knew I would find you in here."

Denise returned the smile even though she still only saw the back of his black haired head. "And I knew you would know to find me here."


	5. Chapter 5

ch5

The horses were happy to rest a bit, and enjoy a cool drink from the stream as did the men who dismounted from their backs. The trees of the forest offered them a canopy of shade as they knelt by the stream and dipped their hands into the cool clear water. Each man had a small pouch of filled with hardtack biscuits as well as a wine sack, and a ration of oats for each of their horses. After drinking their fill of water, they sat on the mossy rocks for a quick lunch break. Prince Adam however was more interested in finding the cottage than eating any dry and tasteless biscuit. As the Prince allowed the guards and his servant Lumiere to eat and talk freely, he began to walk along the stream's bank that had been carved into the forrest's floor. He was about thirty feet away when he paused and surveyed his surroundings. Lumiere noticed his Prince had ventured on his own, and stood to join his master. "Your highness," he spoke up, without trying to yell and attract any unwanted attention. "You should not go off alone in this place."

Adam turned and gave Lumiere a friendly wave. "Don't worry, I'll be fine. I might not have those claws anymore, but I've got this instead." He reached down and patted his sheath which held his father's sword. Lumiere paid no mind however, and continued to walk after him.

"If its all the same to you sire, I will stay behind a little ways, so to watch your back. We can't be too careful, you know." He politely, yet firmly insisted. Adam smiled knowing there was no point in arguing, then turned and began to move forward again.

"All right then, I know not to argue with a frenchman. Belle is always telling me, that _we're_ such a stubborn bunch."

Lumiere chuckled, "I agree your highness, we frenchmen can be quite unreasonable at times, or, at least that's what Fifi tells _me_." Both were now chuckling as they made their way up the stream. For the next several moments, they walked quietly looking for any signs of activity up ahead. As Adam continued to study his surroundings carefully, he couldn't help but be amazed how a place this peaceful and serene, could have such a dark and dastardly reputation. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Lumiere standing a foot or so away from him, ready to die for his prince if the need would come. Adam vaguely recalled stories his father told of Lumiere serving as a soldier in his Majesty's army, but never brought the subject up, just in case Lumiere was uncomfortable about the topic. In stead, Adam smiled and sighed contently, feeling such gratitude to have dear friends like Lumiere under _his _service.

When he was a child, he didn't understand that the majority of those serving in his castle had fallen out of the good graces of other (more powerful or affluent) monarchs, such as His Majesty, and Adam's great uncle, King Louis XV. It wasn't until he and Belle traveled to Paris for their honeymoon, that he discovered, his lovely castle, the _Chateau En Harmonie_, his birth home, was known to the royals and staff at Versailles as, the "dépotoir" (garbage lot). Not for its appearances of course, at least that's what one of King Louis XVI's attendants assured Prince Adam, but because it was where all the "useless" or "good for nothing" servants ended up. This outrageous discovery infuriated Adam to his core, not because it was his _castle_ being insulted, but rather his staff, his closest and trustworthy friends. The only person he ever confined this news to, was Belle, who was so infuriated, and offended by this, that Adam literally had to hold her back from marching straight into the thrown room and giving the King and Queen a piece of her mind! They left the next morning and on the way home decided to never tell another soul what they were told.

Prince Adam glanced back at Lumiere again and smiled to himself. Even though he and Belle never spoke of what they learned at Versailles, they some times tried to guess what someone must have done to end up there at Chateau En Harmonie. Both he and Belle were convinced Lumiere must have flirted with the wrong damsel; women were certainly his one weakness. Of course, neither of them had the never to ever ask Lumiere to explain his back story no matter how intriguing that story would be.

Looking back, choosing to go to Paris for their honeymoon was a huge mistake to say the least, but hindsight is always twenty-twenty. He always promised Belle a second honeymoon, and perhaps now more than ever she deserved it. It was there and then Adam decided when he returned home this time, and see their daughter made human again, they could take that journey she has always longed for, somewhere far away and exotic. North Africa perhaps? Maybe even the island of Saint-Domingue over in the new world? Or better yet, New Orleans. As he moved along the bank, stepping over old rotting fallen branches and mossy stones, a sudden breeze came up from no where. Nothing to be alarmed of, it was just as any other breeze, or so it seemed. He glanced over his shoulder to see Lumiere was still just a about a foot away from him. Adam turned his head to watch his steps but spoke up loudly enough for his servant to hear. "Lumiere, when we return, I am taking Belle on a vacation, a second honeymoon in fact. Where do you think I should take her?"

Adam continued to walk on, assuming Lumiere must be thinking of his response carefully. But after a minute or so, it seemed odd for Lumiere not to say even a word. Adam turned his head again, but now Lumiere was just standing there with a profoundly confessed look on his face.

"Lumiere?" the prince called out, but his servant did not respond at all.

"Lumiere!?" he barked gruffly so that he was certain Lumiere had heard him that time. Lumiere however, did not call back, but instead turned back and began to trot away.

Adam tried to run after him, but quickly noticed the strangest thing. It seemed as if he was going nowhere. His feet were moving, they were hitting the ground, but he made no progress along the path from where he just came. He spotted a tall slender tree just off to his right, and watched it as he moved his feet forward, amazed to see the distance between him and the tree never changed. He began to yell out for Lumiere, while running, then breaking into a full sprint for what he knew had to be a good three maybe four minutes. Still the distance between himself and that tree did not change. He was so winded that he had to bend over to catch his breath. He then decided to try an experiment and turned to move forward again, away from his men. In this direction he made progress. Was there something or someone herding him in the direction he should go? Or perhaps leading him to a trap?

Determined to return to Lumiere and his guards, Adam spun around on his heels, leaned his upper body forward as if to tackle a giant, and sprinted as fast as he could in the direction he came. He soon found that same spot where he had been halted before and just like the first time, he could not press any further as hard as he tried. With every once of strength he had he lifted his arms and pushed against the air, as if there were a huge invisible brick wall stood in his way. He could almost feel there was a kind of "wall" as it were, but instead of having the viscosity of brick, it had a kind of elasticity to it. He pressed in as hard as he could, only to have the "wall" absorb his force. Adam then had the idea to put his back against this "wall," and try it from that angle, then he tried leaning into it with his shoulder. Nothing worked. Suddenly he saw Lumiere and the guards coming his way and he called out to them. "Lumiere, something's blocking my way; See if you can break through it."

But it was as if Lumiere didn't hear a word he said. There Lumiere stood, just a couple of yards away and apparently giving the men instructions to spread out and search for the prince. "Lumiere!"

Adam bellowed as loud as he could, wishing he could muster up that fierce roar he once had. He yelled out Lumiere's name repeated, with the man now just a few inches from him. "I might as well be in Agrabah," the prince grumbled under his breath as he stared blankly at his servant who just stood there, looking thoroughly puzzled by the prince's disappearance. How is it that he could see Lumiere, but Lumiere could not see him? Adam backed up and stubbornly charged this invisible wall. As his body came in contact with this anomaly, his inertia slowed considerably until he felt himself actually snap backward so hard that he was knocked to the ground. Angrily he pounded his fists onto the ground. "AGH!"

oOoOoOoOoOoOo

Forte calmly turned around from _mon coeur_, the pi organ, but the moment he realized Denise had not one thread of clothing on her body, he quickly turned his head, covering his left eye from accidentally catching another glimpse of the nude girl. "Good heavens child!" he railed in shock. "Have you no shame?"

Denise looked down at her own body then rolled her eyes. "Don't worry Forte, everything's already covered up by all this fur."

"That's not the point, child!" he insisted as he turned his back to her, and began to take off his top shirt then handed it to her from the side as he cautiously looked away. "Here, put this on."

Denise took the shirt while shaking her head. "All right, if it will make you happy."

"Nothing makes me happy," Forte dryly joked as he then looked for a barrel to sit on.

"Funny," he began to muse aloud. "From up there, this place seemed a lot bigger."

He found the barrel of his choice, and took out a handkerchief to wipe off the dust from its top, "…and cleaner."

Denise, now wearing the shirt, squatted down on the ground sitting comfortably on her legs. "Forte…" she meekly began her apology.

"I-I'm sorry; I mean, I'm _really_ sorry that I upset you so much yesterday. Can you forgive me?"

At first he wasn't quite sure how he should respond. Her apology was a good step toward healing, that much he realized to himself, but was he really ready to let go and move on, like he had been trying to encourage himself to do? He had never been good at expressing himself with simple words, that was what his music was for. He tried to open his mouth and say something, but every word that tried to jump from his brain and onto his tongue somehow lost its way. He ended up with his mouth partly open, looking every bit as stupid as he felt. He closed his mouth shut, deciding to change the subject altogether.

"Why on earth did you strip off your clothes, then disappear without telling us where you were going?" he scolded, trying to sound more upset with her than he actually was.

Denise shrugged her shoulders, "I needed to find something out," she explained. "I needed to know how it felt to run on all fours. You know on my hands and legs. I needed to know how fast I could go if I ran that way."

"And did you find out?" he asked restlessly.

Denise lit up so that her tail began to wag. "Oh, yes I did! I found out what its like to run like a horse, charging into battle!"

She then stood up and walked over to Forte, sitting on a different barrel just a few inches from his left side."I know poppa's gone out to find a way to change me back, but… you know what Forte?"

She asked as she looked out in into the distance in front of her. Forte had no qualms expressing to Denise his dislike for guessing games. He groaned quietly as his head dropped to his chest. "Your highness, sense 'what' is such a vague topic, would you care to offer me a bit more detail?"

Denise turned to give the man a strange look. She knew sarcasm when she heard it, but wasn't ready to confront it. So, instead she merely cocked her head while she explained to him what she meant. "I don't want to change back. I like being this way."

Forte threw his head back grinning from ear to ear, almost ready to burst out a hearty laugh. 'Oh the irony,' he thought to himself.

"You don't say, Princess? Well, imagine that. Wanting to stay in your cursed form instead of returning to your human self. Gee, I can't begin to understand what that would feel like."

Again, Denise picked up his blatant sarcasm but this time chose to confront him. "I said I was sorry."

"Yes, well, I'm still deciding whether or not to accept your apology," he scoffed half jokingly.

Denise rolled her eyes impatiently. "Have it you way. I still think you are better off as a human."

Forte turned his head to give her a flouted sneer, "Enlighten me, will you?"

Denise huffed in mild exasperation, "Bet it was nice to finally walk out of this place yesterday."

"Oh so I have mobility again, big deal." Forte carefully masked any hint of agreement with a stinging tone of mockery.

Denise groaned, but saw right trough his facade. "You look a lot better as a human by the way, and without that wig, you look…"

Denise paused as she thoughtfully considered her words. Forte waited for her to finish her sentence with a dull expression. "I look like… _what_?"

"Fascinating," Denise finally decided. "You look positively fascinating."

Forte raised his head and looked out into the distance, rolling Denise's compliment over in his mind. "Fascinating," he quietly repeated, with a pleased look on his face.

"Well, that still doesn't excuse the fact that you took away my chance to be immortal," he continue to argue with Denise, mostly for the fun of it.

"Who would want to live forever when everyone you know will die?" she asked rhetorically.

"Ah, I would!" his eyes and smile widened as he insisted with a great deal of enthusiasm.

Not really having any way to argue, she tossed her head and snapped, "That's stupid!"

Forte grinned to himself, completely satisfied he had won. "Well, it was all I had to look forward to, that is, until you decided to ruin it for me. Now, it would seem the fates have chosen to give me a taste of justice. You found _your_ silver lining in the black cloud of transformation, just as I had found mine, and _just as I_, you will have to return to your human form because there is no way your parents would allow you to remain a beast. Even if," Forte's voice then softened and he gave the young princess a gentle smile. "you too, look rather fascinating."

Denise smiled, as she began to swing her legs to and fro, softly bumping the barrel with her heels. "You think I look fascinating too?"

Forte nodded in a matter of fact way, "Yes of course you look fascinating. How many other young princesses do you know have horns, fangs, claws, a long bushy tail and covered in fur?"

Denise giggled cheerfully. She wasn't the least bit ashamed of her appearance, but rather proud. She could now say she felt a particular connection to he father that no one else had. Besides all that, she now felt more alive than she ever imagined she could feel. Everything around her, had a kind of significance that she could not sense before. Every odor, every sound, even the vibrations she felt from the ground and air had meaning to her now. Give all this up? Never!

"Well, Maestro, suppose I have to fall in love in order to change back; I just won't fall in love." Denise smartly replied, feeling smug.

"No wiser words have ever been spoken dear child," Forte assured her. "But, the day will come when you will see that certain someone, and that's when cupid's arrow will strike, sealing your fate. That will be the end of your days of freely running around in the nude."

Denise shook her in defiance. "Nope, it's not going to happen. I think all boys are yucky!"

Forte chuckled to himself, "Your brother is a boy and so is you father, or, w-was a boy as I once was, so very, _very_ long ago. Do you think we're yucky?"

"Yes, I do." Denise sniggered at her own joke.

"Well, your yucky too!" Forte joked back with a tinge of resent.

"Now, your highness," Forte rose to his feet, straightening his undershirt and trousers. "Are you ready to come out of here and put on some real clothes?"

With her hands on her hips, Denise gave Forte a haughty glare. "That depends if you are, Maestro."

He caught the meaning of what she was saying and took a deep satisfying breath. "Ready as I'll ever be, your highness."


End file.
